


you make the snow around me melt

by amessofgaywords



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, a christmas caroling au, and maybe some figgy pudding, from none other than your favorite supercorp weirdos, they deserve some happiness this holiday season, too many christmas songs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21886714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amessofgaywords/pseuds/amessofgaywords
Summary: The woman’s voice was bright, like sunshine, and warm and full, like a nice cold, glass of lemonade combined with whiskey, the kind of drink that met every urge at once. Lena soaked it in like a woman parched.Then, she shook her head out of her thirsty trance and realized what was happening.She was beingcaroled to.In herprivate hallway.By a literalsuperwoman.or lena luthor doesn't like christmas carols but kara danvers really likes lena luthor. hilarity ensues.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 6
Kudos: 231





	you make the snow around me melt

**Author's Note:**

> here is a fluffy thing i wrote and thought was adorable. these two dorks deserve a happy christmas. also, yes, i fully believe kara danvers would attempt to flirt via christmas carol, and lena luthor would completely fall for it, because she's a thirsty affection-starved weirdo.
> 
> title from let's stay inside by adaline.

It was Christmas season, and Lena could not be more miserable. 

Sure, the shining lights, festive cheer and merry carols were supposed to make people happy and nostalgic, but for someone who had an abject lack of joyous childhood memories, especially surrounding the holidays, they ended up pretty annoying. _Especially_ the carols. 

Jesus, she bought the penthouse on the uppermost floor of the most aristocratic and elite building on this side of National City for a _reason,_ and that reason was, primarily, the distinct lack of neighbors. So, Lena was not exactly amused when her doorbell rang late on a Friday night, when she was halfway through a bottle of Château Pierre de Montignac and a therapeutic _Merlin_ marathon. 

It had been the day from the pits of hell, what with her expensive coffee maker’s breaking down just when she needed it most (note to self: stop staying up late doing paperwork), her three earliest meetings being comprised of sexist, idiotic men who didn't the know the first thing about business _or_ quantum physics, and Jess’ inexplicable absence for the first half of the day (she was later excused due to her bachelorette party being the night before, because Lena wasn't an absolute monster of a boss, but still, she suffered). All of _that_ was followed up by a lack of lunch, due to an abundance of paperwork (even with her back-breaking effort from the night before) and a spontaneous trip down to the labs which was, admittedly, her only reprieve from the otherwise deplorable day. 

So, the second she got home, she changed into the comfiest clothes she owned, poured herself an obscene amount of wine, gathered every piece of junk food she owned, and prepared to lose herself in sub-par fantasy television for the rest of night. 

At least, until she was rudely broken from her entranced, slightly tipsy stupor by the clanging of her door chime. 

Lena had never wished to spontaneously develop laser vision more than that moment, as she glared at the door with the look that typically made grown men cower. She turned back to the television and prayed that whoever had the audacity to ride to the private penthouse level on nine o’clock on a Friday would come to their senses soon enough.

Unfortunately, no such luck.

The doorbell rang again, and Lena took another opportunity to glare at the door. She paused Netflix with a huff, hoping that her unwanted visitor would hear the lack of sound and think there was no one home.

A second later, the doorbell sounded again, three times in quick succession.

Lena sighed, loudly, and removed herself from her comfortable wrap of blankets on the couch. Arming herself with her half-empty wineglass (she had an inkling of a feeling she would need the alcohol in this situation), she stepped forward, flipped the three deadbolts on her door, and swung it open, fixing the person on the other side with a withering glare.

This glare, however, fell as soon as Lena actually saw the person on the other side of the door.

It was a woman, tall and tan and absolutely _gorgeous._ She had long, blonde hair, pinned half up, that spilled down her back, some wayward strands landing unevenly on her shoulders (the hair looked so _soft,_ she wanted to run her fingers through it, oh _god_ ), the top part of her head tucked into a blue beanie. She wore adorable black glasses and a bright, sunshine-laced smile. Her fluffy blue knit scarf and oversized black felt coat wrapped around her figure, ending somewhere near her knees, bundling her almost all the way up (except for those aforementioned legs, which were clothed in black tights and a black corduroy skirt, and since when was corduroy an attractive material on anyone, even hot blonde goddesses in glasses and Mary Janes?)

It was then that Lena realized two things: one, she was really a useless lesbian, and two, she had now looked this woman over more times than was strictly professional. And the woman could _definitely_ tell.

Besides those embarrassing things, she was also leaning not-so-casually on her doorway, looking an absolute mess. Compared to the put together power she had exuded most of the day, she was now wrapped in an oversized grey sweater, likely stained tank top, and red sweatpants tucked into worn brown slippers. Her hair wasn’t even close to normal-looking, tied up in a messy bun, and her glasses, which she only wore at home for a _reason_ were probably askew.

But Lena had no more opportunities to fret over her appearance, because the goddess woman started to _sing._

And really, Lena didn’t think she could get any gayer.

The woman’s voice was bright, like sunshine, and warm and full, like a nice cold, glass of lemonade combined with whiskey, the kind of drink that met every urge at once. Lena soaked it in like a woman parched.

Then, she shook her head out of her thirsty trance and realized what was happening.

She was being _caroled to._ In her _private hallway._ By a literal _superwoman._

And no matter how pretty this woman was, any person singing her “Good King Wenceslas” in the middle of the night while she was in pajamas needed to perish at the hands of her brother immediately.

Lena raised a single hand as the woman hit the second chorus (Lena didn’t even know that song _had_ a second chorus), and she stopped, her mouth hanging open almost cartoonishly. It would have been comical if Lena were less annoyed.

“Sorry, I don’t do carols. Try one floor down, I think they have some kids there.”

She smiled, somewhat politely, took a pointed sip of her wine, and shut the door. There was no sound from the other side, and Lena congratulated herself on vanquishing the pretty carol singing lady.

Then the doorbell rang again.

Lena paused halfway to the couch, pivoted on a heel, and stared disbelievingly at the door.

_I just told her to leave, and she’s ringing the doorbell again?_

Lena shook her head, smiling despite herself at Caroling Goddess’ antics (it was kind of cute how persistent she was), and flopped rather ungracefully back on the couch, pressing play on the remote and waiting for the far-too-stubborn blonde to get the hint and go away.

Alas, it seemed, this woman did not understand basic social cues, because barely ten seconds later, the bell rang again.

Lena pressed pause again on the TV and stood, leaving her wine on the table (she was going to war this time) and moving towards the door with quick, purposeful steps. She was going to give this damn woman a piece of her mind if it was-

She opened the door to a joyous chorus of “Let it Snow.”

The woman, adorably pink-cheeked in her hat and scarf, was now playing accompanying music on her phone, and at Lena’s incredulous look, honest to god _winked._

Lena decided to ignore that.

“Seriously, I wasn’t kidding. I’m not really into all that ‘goodwill towards men’ crap, so if you could kindly leave me alone, I’d appreciate it.” She spoke over the music, since Caroling Goddess would be stopped for nothing and no one.

As Lena was stepping back inside her apartment and shutting the door, she heard the woman shout, “You’ve just been treated to a special concert by the Kara Danvers Private Caroling Service!”

_Her voice is just as pretty speaking as it is – okay, Luthor stop that train of thought before you start shooting literal rainbows out of your ass. And you thought you couldn’t get any gayer._

(Also, private caroling services were definitively not a thing.)

The woman – _Kara,_ she reminded herself – apparently had the stubborn streak of a toddler and the stamina of a horse, because not a second later, the doorbell was ringing again.

Lena whipped it open, prepared to properly scold Kara where she stood, but was met with a verse of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” this time, right at the part about the fig pudding, or whatever the hell they were singing about.

Patiently, she let Kara finish the verse, leaning on her hand on the doorway, and offered a sly smile at the end. “What, am I actually supposed to give you pudding now?”

Kara placed her hands in her pockets and rocked back and forth on her heels. “I mean, not really, but it’s good manners.”

Lena rolled her eyes. “I’m deeply sorry, but I’m all out at the moment. Could I interest you in some lime tortilla chips?”

Kara grinned. “If you’re offering.”

Lena raised a single eyebrow. No matter how annoying this woman was, she was determined not to lose this game, and she shut the door to Kara’s satisfied (also blindingly beautiful) smile with a flirtatious flutter of her fingers.

This time, when the doorbell rang again, she was ready for it.

“I want a hippopotamus for Christmas, oh, only a hippopotamus will do...” 

Lena’s eyes widened as Kara began singing in an extremely irritating, grating, nasally voice that rivaled a shrieking infant. She reached a hand out to clap it over Kara’s mouth.

“Please. Never sing that song again. I beg you.”

Kara smirked behind Lena’s lingering hand. “Punishment for not giving me lime chips,” she said, muffled.

Rolling her eyes for what she swore was the millionth time that night, Lena stepped back inside her apartment, grabbed a handful of chips from the bag she’d been eating from before Kara had so rudely interrupted her night, and passed them through the doorway. “Happy?”

“Very,” Kara said, still munching as Lena shut the door.

It took a second longer for the bell to ring this time, most likely because Kara was still stuffing her face with chips. However, when it did, Lena was treated to the rousing chorus of “All I Want for Christmas is You,” complete with vocal trills and ridiculously long high notes.

It still left her smiling at the end.

The game continued. Kara tried “Holly Jolly Christmas” and “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” before she seemed to take a different tactic, going for “Silent Night” the third time around when Lena opened the door (she’d taken to keeping a hand on the knob at all times, waiting for Kara’s telltale ring).

Lena wasn’t lying when she said watching Kara sing the hymn was... rather elegant, and endlessly alluring. The way the blonde curved her voice around each syllable, caressed each note like it meant something to her, every word... Lena had never really been a music person, but even she could see the beauty in the way Kara sang.

Eventually, Kara tapered off, and Lena, with a residual blush that just would not go, shut the door with a “you’re so stupid.”

Admittedly not her finest moment, but who could form coherent thoughts when a woman such as Kara Danvers was basically serenading them in their own home?

Kara must have noticed Lena’s reaction to the slow music, because the next song she tried was “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran.

When she finished, Lena shook her head. “That’s not even a Christmas song.” (She still couldn’t wipe the stupid blush off of her face.)

“The video is Christmas-y.” Kara argued, throwing up her hands like it was an argument she had had a thousand times (Lena wondered if she had. Suddenly she wanted to know everything about this woman. That was odd. And new. And she needed to tone down the gay a little bit.)

“Still doesn’t count. Try again, Miss Danvers.”

She opened the door a second later to Kara belting out “Jingle Bells” at the top of her lungs, in a bored monotone, while staring at her watch. When she finished (while Lena giggled, _damn her terrible sense of self control around this girl_ ), she quirked her lips. “Christmas-y enough for you, Miss Luthor?”

Lena spluttered. “What- I don’t... you... you know who I am?”

Kara shrugged. “The guy at the front desk warned me that ‘Lena Luthor does not like to be disturbed’ but I told him I could make anyone enjoy Christmas carols, even if it took me all night.”

“I see you accepted that unspoken challenge, then,” Lena offered, still trying to process that Kara knew who she was and wasn’t halfway across the country by now.

“Well, I try never to back down from a challenge, Lena.”

(Lena tried to ignore the urge to ask Kara to sing her name all of a sudden, because that was unreasonable and a little weird, right?)

“Wait, wait, that reminds me.” Kara pulled out her phone and typed something into it, holding out a finger. “Shut the door. I’ll tell you when to open it.”

Sure enough, a moment later Lena opened the door on the obliging chime.

Kara then proceeded to sing a few lines of “Santa Baby,” wrapping it up with a “cause you’re rich!”

Lena frowned. “I am not a sugar mommy, no matter how much you may wish me to be, Kara Danvers. What do you think you’re insinuating?”

Kara did have the forethought to look sorry. “Oh, I just... I was joking...”

Lena’s face softened. “I’m sorry, I was poking fun. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. By all means, continue.”

Kara paused, chewing on her lip, then said, “no, I’m good. Shut the door.” 

Lena’s heart pounded rather erratically, terrified she had offended the blonde so much she wouldn’t want to come back, but when the doorbell went off a moment later, she breathed a sigh of relief.

Kara smiled softly at her, then started a song Lena hadn’t heard before.

Unlike the previous times, Kara seemed intent to sing the song through, but so like the previous times, Lena found herself entranced.

And even though she was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that a random woman had been singing Christmas songs to her in her hallway for the past half an hour, even though she was thoroughly confused as to how this situation had escalated so drastically, Lena had to admit, the song was effortlessly, wonderfully beautiful. 

And it was for her.

When Kara finished, her mouth was agape, and her eyes were wide.

“Kara, I- that was beautiful.”

“Thanks. It’s a personal favorite.” Kara grinned.

“No, really. I’ve... I’ve never had anyone sing to me like that before. Well, I’ve never had anyone sing to me before period, but that was... that was amazing. Spectacular, even.” Lena cleared her throat, suddenly aware of her intense word vomit. “Thank you.”

Kara nodded and saluted her. “Anytime.” The look on her face, though, was hard to read.

Lena shut the door, unsure what to expect. Was that it? Was the whole stupid, wonderful, miraculous thing over?

She glanced at the TV, still paused. God, only a little while ago she’d been watching _Merlin_ and stewing in self-pity. It felt so hard to believe. She felt like her whole night, day, week had been consumed with Kara.

She sat down, slowly, on the couch, a little disappointed the bell hadn’t rung again. It seemed truly over. Kara wasn’t coming back. They would probably never see each other again.

Even though Lena hadn’t even known Kara a few hours ago, being without her suddenly seemed impossible.

She reluctantly pressed play and settled in to watch once more, but her focus was entirely elsewhere.

She was startled out of her skin when the doorbell went off again, and curse her traitorous rocketing heartbeat, but could it be Kara?

Lena got up slowly to see, hoping, praying that it might be the blonde.

And sure enough, there she was.

She looked different. Her scarf and hat were gone, mysteriously disappeared, and her hair was entirely unbound, spilling down her shoulders in gorgeous golden waves that Lena still wanted to run her hands through. Her coat was unbuttoned, revealing a soft navy sweater underneath, and she was holding a pile of white cards.

“Silent Night” started again, out of Kara’s phone speaker, and she flipped around one of the cards:

_You don’t have anyone to tell it’s carol singers, and I really am a carol singer, but I made this card for posterity’s sake._

Lena chuckled. Leave it to Kara.

The next card flipped, with Kara giving a nervous smile. 

_In truth, I have not known you for long, Lena Luthor._

_But in the time that I have, I have seen you to be a kind, funny, dry, and compassionate young woman, and I deeply wish to get to know you better._

_I don’t think anyone else has tolerated me singing this many songs to them in one night._

“Really?” Lena asked.

Kara smirked and flipped over the next card.

_Really. I leave after they kick me out the first time, on most occasions. But you’re different. You’re worth trying for._

In fine print, along the bottom, it read, _yes, I knew what you were going to say._ Lena chuckled again, surprised at the wetness of her voice.

The next card:

_Yes, I read the news, and I know what people say about you, but I don’t think any of those things are true. I think you’re wonderful, and brilliant, and a little lonely, and I want to be the cure of that loneliness for you._

_So, even though in a few years I might be married to these women:_

The next card displayed a great many names of rich, influential women, not unlike Lena herself in status, and she almost snorted when she saw Cat Grant’s name upon the list.

_Because it’s Christmas, and because I’m a sap..._

_I wanted to say..._

_To me, you are perfect._

Lena didn’t even realize she was crying until a tear landed wetly on her collar.

“Sorry, I know this was-”

Kara didn’t get a chance to finish, because in an instant, Lena was pressing her mouth to hers, and suddenly, the whole kiss-your-love-under-the-mistletoe thing made a hell of a lot of sense.

It was like warm cocoa and twinkle lights and snowy nights at fire pits and all those clichés Lena always thought she hated until she was kissing Kara Danvers, and then suddenly she wanted them all for herself, every last drop of holiday spirit until she was drenched in it, because if it could all make her feel like this, then she would take anything they gave her.

She would do anything to keep kissing Kara Danvers.

Except Kara Danvers was pulling away.

“That’s one way to say ‘merry Christmas,’ right?”

Lena laughed, and pressed her face into Kara’s collar (she smelled like lavender and peppermint). “I suppose so.” She pulled away and looked into Kara’s ocean blue eyes, a crinkling smile that, for once, reached her eyes stretching across her face. “Now, do you want to come in out of that hallway? I have Netflix and snacks, although I’m fresh out of figgy pudding.”

“Too bad. I’ll just have to settle for you, then.” Kara shrugged and leaned in for another kiss, a little too much teeth because of their outrageous smiles, but neither minded.

“That sounded weird, didn’t it?” Kara asked when they separated again. Lena grinned and pulled her into the apartment by the wrist, laughing all the while.

“Oh darling, I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

(She still hated Christmas carols. But she could learn to love them if Kara was there to sing them to her.)

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me @amessofgaywords on twitter.


End file.
